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Chapter 62: The Calm Before the Storm
The days had flown by in a blur for Lyrian and Elyreina. The academy grounds were alive with a palpable energy as the tournament loomed just days away. The sound of clashing weapons, chanting students, and crackling magic filled the air as everyone prepared for the grand event. The training fields were filled with eager participants, each trying to hone their skills in the final days before the competition.
Elyreina, as usual, seemed unfazed by the frenzy around her. Her focus was unwavering. She had always been driven, always sought to prove herself—not just to the academy, but to the world itself. And with the tournament fast approaching, her resolve had only grown stronger.
Lyrian, on the other hand, found himself wandering the grounds more than usual. The mounting pressure weighed on him, and though he had made the choice to step aside from the tournament, it left him restless. Watching his sister train with such fierce dedication only reminded him of the raw potential she wielded—and the power he still felt so distant from.
He stood near the edge of the training fields, leaning against a stone pillar, watching her practice. Each strike of her blade sliced through the air with deadly precision. Her form was flawless, and her confidence was undeniable. There was no doubt in Lyrian's mind that she would be one of the tournament's strongest contenders.
But as he watched, something in him stirred. He wanted to be a part of it. He could feel the pull of the arena, the call of battle. Yet, he couldn't shake the decision he had made to stay out of the competition. The risk, the consequences—it was all too much. He wasn't ready, and deep down, he knew it.
Elyreina paused mid-swing, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her gaze caught his, and she walked over, sheathing her blade with a fluid motion.
"You're thinking about joining, aren't you?" she asked, her voice soft but knowing.
Lyrian smiled, though it was tinged with a hint of sadness. "Not this time, sis. I'll be cheering you on from the stands."
She studied him for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. "You always say that. But you don't fool me. I know that look. You're just afraid of losing."
Lyrian's gaze softened. It wasn't fear that held him back—it was something else. "Afraid of losing? No. But I'm afraid of getting caught up in something I'm not ready for. You've got this, Elyreina. You don't need me in the competition to win."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Lyrian… don't lie to yourself. You've never been someone who stands on the sidelines. Sooner or later, you'll be forced into the fray—whether you like it or not."
Her words struck deeper than he expected. He had been avoiding this moment, pushing aside the growing need to step forward. Elyreina was right, though. He wasn't the type to watch from the shadows forever.
"Maybe," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "But not yet. I have to get my head straight first. You… you're ready, Elyreina. Just don't lose yourself out there. Promise me that."
She smiled softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I promise."
They stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of the academy's preparations filling the air around them. The tension was thick, the calm before the storm.
A horn blared in the distance, signaling that the final days of preparation were nearly over. The arena was almost complete, the final tests on the protective barriers were being made. The students were buzzing with excitement, preparing themselves mentally and physically for the battles ahead.
Elyreina glanced toward the direction of the arena, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "This is it, Lyrian. Tomorrow, it all starts."
Lyrian turned his gaze to the same spot, his chest tightening. The old fire he thought had dimmed flared up once again. He couldn't deny it—his heart was torn between staying on the sidelines and stepping forward. But for now, he remained resolute in his decision. There would be no turning back once the tournament began.
"I know," he said softly. "I know."
As they began to walk back toward their dormitory, the conversation fell into a comfortable silence. Lyrian's mind was occupied, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Elyreina's words had hit too close to home. She was right; he wouldn't stay on the sidelines forever. He just wasn't ready yet.
Suddenly, they were approached by two familiar figures—Dorian and Reynard, both heading toward the academy's training grounds.
Dorian, with his typical grin, gave them a wave. "Well, if it isn't the two famous siblings," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You two ready for the tournament?"
Reynard, on the other hand, remained quiet for a moment, his eyes narrowed with focus. His gaze shifted to Elyreina first, then to Lyrian, his expression unreadable.
"I know you're not participating, Lyrian," Reynard said quietly, his voice laced with a hint of respect. "But I expect you to keep a close eye on the competition. You're going to need all the information you can get for the future."
Lyrian smiled, nodding. "I'll be watching. Don't worry about me."
Dorian clapped Lyrian on the back, his grin widening. "I'm sure you're going to be a great spectator. But Elyreina," he added, turning toward her, "I don't expect you to hold back. This is your chance to shine."
Elyreina's expression softened as she looked at both of them. "I'm not going to hold back. Not for a second."
Dorian winked, clearly enjoying the moment. "Good. Then it's settled. We're all going to show the academy what we're made of. See you both at the arena."
As they continued their walk back to the dorms, the weight of the conversation lingered. Lyrian's thoughts were heavy with what Elyreina had said, and the knowledge that he wasn't ready yet pressed on him. He knew the tournament was only the beginning, and sooner or later, he would have to face it—not as a spectator, but as a participant.
But for now, he would remain on the sidelines. He just hoped he was making the right decision.
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